Hate & Love
by Aille
Summary: Harry is saved from the Dursleys by Severus Snape. (unfinished) - problems fixed 12/05/03
1. The Letter

**TITLE**: Hate & Love - Chapter 1/?  
**CHAPTER**: The Letter  
**AUTHOR**: Teigra  
**E-MAIL**: teigra_kefira@yahoo.com  
**PAIRING**: Harry/Severus  
**SERIES**: Backstory to 'White Tigers and Golden Dragons'  
**ARCHIVE**: my diary, this archive and anywhere else that people want it, just ask first.  
**CLASSIFICATION**: PG-13 (for now)  
**SUMMARY**: Harry is saved from the Dursleys by Severus Snape  
**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own them... She does *points to JKR* and I am making no money from this, I'm just enjoying sharing some of my own crazy ideas.  
**AUTHORS NOTE**: I have a wonderful new beta reader who was wonderful enough to to go over this for me. [hugs Markus a whole lot] Thank you hun. You saved this thing from being the terror it was in grammar mistakes. I was working on 'White Tigers and Golden Dragons' (which needs to be fixed to fit this now) when I realized I needed a back story to an upcoming scene. This didn't turn out anything like I thought it would... yet once I started writing, it just wrote itself.  
  


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Dear Professor Snape,  
  
I'm writing this to you Professor because you are the only one who would truly understand and not judge me for what I'm about to say. If this seems broken, I'm sorry. I can only write this in secret and I don't know how long I have. If I'm discovered, this will never get to you.  
  
If you are reading this, I didn't make it through this summer. I really tried to keep my chin up, to remember that I'm needed to win this ruddy war, but I couldn't take it any longer. It all started back at the end of forth year when Cedric died. I knew it was all my fault, no matter how many times I was told other wise. I told him to take the cup with me and I am the one that brought him to his death, even if I didn't know it at the time.  
  
I should have known. I'm the one who has the dreams about Voldemort, I'm the one who knew something was wrong from the first day of the Tournament when my name came out of the bloody Goblet. I should have realized it was a trap. Instead I got someone I considered a friend killed, my godfather pushed into hunting down active Death Eaters, and you... you back into spying for Dumbledore, which could get you killed.  
  
None of this would have happened if I had died way back when this all began, yet, time after time when my life has been in jeopardy, I've come away alive at the expense of someone else's life. My mom when I was a baby, Professor Quirrell in my first year, Ginny nearly died in my second year, Cedric in forth year and now Professor Trimble. I have four lives on my hands because I haven't stopped Voldemort yet and that doesn't even count the lives that I have seen snuffed out in my sleep and those taken by Death Eaters. I hold myself responsible for each of those as well. I should be able to do something.  
  
If it hadn't been for the fact that I was finally allowed to go to Ron's last summer, I don't think I would have made it. You may not believe me, but life is hell here. It started to get better when I got my school letter for the first time, at least then the beatings stopped, but someone just thought they would be kind and let the Dursleys know what happened during the Third Task and Vernon has used that to his advantage ever since. And he is right, I am a murderer, I deserve everything that I have gotten and will get.  
  
Last summer, the beatings started up again. Nothing too bad... nothing that wouldn't heal before school started or could be hidden under my robes. Between those and the nightly Voldemort dreams, I began to think that maybe it was my turn to join my parents. However, Mr Weasley came to get me the day before my fifteenth birthday, saving me. Literally.  
  
My time with them lifted my spirits and I thought that I'd be able to make it threw the rest of the year.  
  
I was wrong.  
  
Every other night I was dreaming of Voldemort, when I wasn't under a dreamless sleep potion or just not sleeping at all. I know I should have gone to Dumbledore, but I couldn't take his sad looks any longer. I felt like I was letting him down when I couldn't give any more information than I could. I wasn't a spy for crying out loud. I was a child who was never allowed to have a childhood, I was an unwilling pawn in someone else's game. I never asked to be the saviour of the Wizarding World. I never asked to have this bloody scar, but I wouldn't wish this pain on anyone else. At least I am trained to take said pain.  
  
Then I was nearly kidnapped, again. It was the last Hogsmeade weekend of the year and if it hadn't been for Professor Trimble, I would have been taken... again. Instead, because of his fast thinking, I am still alive and he was found three days later, dead. No one would tell me how he died, yet I know, how could I not, remember, I am connected to Voldemort, I got to enjoy the entire show, if you call that enjoying. If you recall, I spent all three of those days puking, screaming, crying and begging for it to stop. Yet, I couldn't do anything to help find him. They never showed where he was and kept him in a dark room.  
  
That would have never happened if Voldemort had been allowed to take me. He would still be alive and his blood wouldn't be on my hands too.  
  
And now I'm back in this hellhole. The place that I'm supposed to be safest because of the wards. Bull shit.  
  
Vernon didn't start his normal behaviour of beating me until over a week ago, yet it seems like it has gone on forever. It's much worse than it was in previous years. I know that at least half of my ribs are broken and my left arm is totally useless right now.  
  
And I also know, no one is coming to save me this year.  
  
The day the beatings started, was the day I got the letter from Ron saying I wouldn't be able to go there this year. Vernon caught me reading it and what anger he had been holding in, was unleashed. He had been expecting me to leave, he had been acting good because one of the neighbours had caught sight of me last year, I thought he was going to kill me at first... and I welcomed it.  
  
Professor, please don't blame them, harm them or let anyone know. I could have stopped it, but I deserved every kick, punch and slap.  
  
I am sorry I wasn't the student you wanted me to be. I tried my hardest to live up to your expectations. I got ten OWL's and my grades were only a few points below Hermione and Draco.  
  
I want you to know, I am not my father and I am not perfect. I grew up differently from him. He knew about magic and grew up with it all around him, where as, I didn't find out about it until my eleventh birthday. My father had an easy life, where I have had to work for everything I have ever gotten. I wish I had grown up with my family, with said easy life, but instead I grew up starving and with broken bones. No I am not my father, I am Harry, just Harry.  
  
I'm going to end this now, as the hour chimes my sixteenth birthday. Please let Dumbledore know that I don't blame him for the crap I've gone through. He didn't know and I never told.  
  
Let Sirius know that I love him and that I know he will be free someday.  
  
And Professor, please know that I respect you and love you. You are the only one that hasn't treated me like a celebrity in all the years I've known you. I don't know why, but in the last year I've come to understand you better, more than you would think and I realized that fine line between hate and love. I realized that I never did hate you. I just didn't know how to understand you when I met you back in my first year. Now I know it's not really anger that you were throwing at me. Well, at least not all the time. I don't understand it really, but there has been something between us since the first moment I met you.  
  
Oh shit, I hear movement in the hall. Professor, I would never take my life, but if I don't make it back to school this year, it wasn't their fault. They couldn't help themselves.  
  
Harry Potter  
  


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It's been three days since I went to pick the boy up, three days since I found him laying in a bloody mass on the floor, three days since the portkey took us to this dungeon and three days since I read that letter. That letter which has forever burned itself into my memory.  
  
I wouldn't have even gone to the boys place if the wards hadn't started to weaken around it. I thought he must have been the cause of them starting to fall, but I had no idea. I had expected to have to go and tell the boy off for making me give up my summer for him. Instead, I have spent the last three days trying to save his life. I don't think even Dumbledore understands the wards around this boys home is fed by his life force. That's what keeps him safe when he's away from Hogwarts, at least, safe from my master. And I would have never known if those muggles hadn't almost killed him.  
  
I arrived there seven days after the boy's birthday, five years and seven days from the first moment I saw him in the Apothecary with Hagrid. I knew... knew from the first moment I had laid eyes on him, I had found my soul mate. The only person who could make me complete and he was about to start his first year. Of course I knew who it was, Dumbledore had had the audacity to ask me to pick the child up, until I reminded the dense man what would happen if my former colleagues saw me with the child. So Hagrid got the coveted job of playing babysitter for the day. However, I couldn't help myself by being there to see the one person who would one day set me free. He looked like an angel and I had to make him hate me. For both our sakes.  
  
If I had know what he was going home to, what he had come from, I would have never tried so hard to get him expelled. I didn't realize that he didn't have a family who loved him. Who would? James and Lily were two of the kindest people I knew back in school, who would have know that Lily's family would be so... different.  
  
And even though I tried to make him hate me, he never really did. I know that now. He thought he was dying, he thought they were killing him, so he admitted it, in this letter. This letter that has changed my entire view of him.  
  
I haven't yet told Dumbledore about what I found at the Dursleys. I can't. I can't even send him a note to tell him we have gotten here all right, if you consider this all right. We're stuck here with only each others company until September 1st and with no contact with the outside world.  
  
At least the old man had the foresight to have my laboratory sent to where ever we are. At least I can still make every thing that is necessary to care for Potter. I'm sure that these walls will start to close in on me once the boy finally wakes up, but right now, my lab is too far away from his side.  
  
I've thought about moving his bed into the lab so that I could work and keep an eye on him, but I don't want to move him too much. When I first got him here, he had several broken bones, internal bleeding, a punctured lung, a concussion, several minor injuries that I haven't looked at yet because I've been more concerned with the major ones and he is severely malnourished. By the time I found him, it was too late to simply fix much of it by magic quickly and I have had to spend hours forcing potions down his throat and casting spells to quicken his natural healing processes. I'm sure he was quite grateful to be unconscious when I forced the Skele-Gro into him, after removing all the broken bones.  
  
I'm not all that worried about the internal bleeding any longer. I've taken care of as much of that as I possibly could with spells and potoins. It should finish healing on its own in a couple of days.  
  
What I am still worried about is the concussion. I don't know exactly how long he's been out. Has it only been three days, or since he wrote this letter ten days ago?  
  
He was scared when he wrote those last few lines. Couldn't help themselves? Everyone can help themselves, it's not that hard. Even Macnair never killed without orders, though he did enjoy the torture. No, those muggles went too far this time.  
  
I could just tell the boys homicidal godfather what the muggles did to him and that would be the end of that problem. However, Harry would never forgive me. He asked that I tell no one.  
  
No, right now they don't even remember the fact that Harry, the *Boy*, had even been there this summer. I want to know where to find them when I get out of here. If I had let them keep their memories, I'm sure I'd never be able to find them again. Maybe I can talk the boy into letting me play with them for a bit. Nothing lasting, but something they would remember... forever.  
  
Come on boy, wake up. You've slept long enough. I need to know you're all right.  
  
Maybe if I go work on another potion, the time will pass faster. Seems like a watched Potter never wakens. 


	2. Awakenings

**TITLE**: Hate & Love - Chapter 2/?  
**CHAPTER**: Awakenings  
**AUTHOR**: Teigra  
**E-MAIL**: teigra_kefira@yahoo.com  
**PAIRING**: Harry/Severus  
**SERIES**: Back-story to 'White Tigers and Golden Dragons'  
**ARCHIVE**: my Diary, this archive and anywhere else that people want it, just ask first.  
**CLASSIFICATION**: PG-13 (for now)  
**SUMMARY**: Severus Snape saves Harry from the Dursleys  
**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own them... She does *points to JKR* and I am making no money from this, I'm just enjoying sharing some of my own crazy ideas.  
**AUTHORS NOTE**: I have a wonderful new beta reader who was wonderful enough to to go over this for me. [hugs Markus a whole lot] Thank you hun. You saved this thing from being the terror it was in grammar mistakes. I was working on 'White Tigers and Golden Dragons' (which needs to be fixed to fit this now) when I realized I needed a back story to an upcoming scene. This didn't turn out anything like I thought it would... yet once I started writing, it just wrote itself.  
  


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"Come on Potter, wake up!" Ok, so I'm fed up, we've been here for five days all ready and one can only handle the sound of ones own voice for so long.  
  
"...ust 'ive 'inutes 'on" Well, isn't he eloquent in the morning?  
  
"Mr Potter, I will not give you five minutes as you have so eloquently asked for. Get up!" Well that did the trick, I do not believe I have ever seen his eyes so wide. Yet he shouldn't move so quickly. "Mr Potter, what I meant was wake up. You must stay still. You have had several broken ribs, a broken arm, both of your legs have been fractured and you've been unconscious for several days. Although most of your injuries have been healed, your muscles need time to readjust to your new bones. I had to re-grow most of them. Your assessment of your condition was fairly accurate as of your birthday, however you have several internal injuries that were not treated in a timely fashion and now must heal with only small interspaced bouts of magic to speed the natural healing process along."  
  
"P...professor Snape?"  
  
"Yes," eloquent and states the obvious, what great company I am going to have for the next three weeks.  
  
"What... where... how... did you..?"  
  
"Well Potter, it seems we are going to have some wonderful conversations. Where should I start? What? I'll take that as to be what's going on?" Good, add the sarcasm, the dark look and don't quite look him in those delectable emerald eyes. "It seems that the wards around your home were weakening. Since I was the only teacher within the school, Dumbledore asked me, much to my dismay, to bring you here. So now, you and I, are stuck here, for the rest of the summer."  
  
"Oh," He didn't need to sound so dejected.  
  
"As for where, I don't know. It's better that way."  
  
"Unh..." OK, this is just going downhill.  
  
"How? Portkey." I've never seen him that shade of white, I hope he doesn't get sick; I don't want to clean it up. "And did I? I suppose you mean the letter?" There is a nod, that if I hadn't been watching for, I would have missed. "Yes, I read it, seeing as it *was* addressed to me." From white to red in .5 seconds, I really must explore this.  
  
"Now Mr Potter, I have a few questions of my own that I would like answered. You can make it easy and answer truthfully the first time, or do it the hard way and I'll get the Veritaserum. You do remember what Veritaserum does don't you? Not that I wouldn't mind finding out all your little secrets." Well that did it, he's quite pale again. Was I ever that open with my facial expressions?  
  
"Y...yes sir, I remember. I'll answer," Good answer.  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
"Like shit sir."  
  
"Specifically?" Am I going to have to drag it out of him after all?  
  
"My legs feel like someone's driven stakes through them. It didn't hurt this much when the Basilisk sunk its fang in my leg." Why didn't the old man tell me he had been bitten? "My left arm feels completely useless, but I can wiggle my fingers so it can't be that bad. My head hurts and I'm missing four teeth. And..." he squirms a bit, winces and doesn't raise his eyes from the blanket.  
  
"And what Mr Potter? I can not treat you if I do not know what is the problem."  
  
"It's not important." I almost didn't hear him he mumbled it so quietly.  
  
"Shall I go get the Veritaserum, Mr Potter? I have just brewed a fresh batch." That is another interesting shade of red, "Or, shall we continue? If something is causing you pain, then it must be taken care of. Until classes start in three weeks, it's just you and I. So I am your doctor and I will do everything I can to get you better, before classes start. Or do you want Dumbledore to know what happened now?"  
  
"You're not going to tell?"  
  
"You asked."  
  
"Thank you sir." Harry sagged into the bed.  
  
No one should look that grateful to have this kept quiet. "Now, and what?"  
  
"Um... well..." He blushed, "you see... well... I think something got hurt when... ah... you know..."  
  
He has pulled the blanket over his head. "Potter, you are not a child, quit acting like one. I know what?"  
  
"Sir," well at least he's brought it down to his chin, "you really won't tell anyone?"  
  
"No, Potter, I will not tell anyone. This will stay between you and I." What is it with the boy? It can't be that bad.  
  
"And you won't hurt them?"  
  
"No," not yet. Not until I know exactly what I'm doing it for first.  
  
"Vernon thought he'd give me a birthday present I wouldn't forget." He crossed his good arm protectively across his chest.  
  
"And that was?"  
  
"He some how found out that I fancied guys and decided to show me why it was wrong. Do you understand now?"  
  
"Yes, unfortunately I do." I won't hurt him. No, I'll kill the bloody fucking bastard. He won't hurt when I kill him.  
  
No one dare violate my mate in such a way. None may violate my mate in *any* way. 


	3. Promises

**TITLE**: Hate & Love - Chapter 3/?  
**CHAPTER**: Promises  
**AUTHOR**: Teigra  
**E-MAIL**: teigra_kefira@yahoo.com  
**PAIRING**: Harry/Severus  
**SERIES**: Back-story to 'White Tigers and Golden Dragons'  
**ARCHIVE**: my Diary, this archive and anywhere else that people want it, just ask first.  
**CLASSIFICATION**: PG-13 (for now)  
**SUMMARY**: Severus Snape saves Harry from the Dursleys  
**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own them... She does *points to JKR* and I am making no money from this, I'm just enjoying sharing some of my own crazy ideas.  
**AUTHORS NOTE**: I have a wonderful new beta reader who was wonderful enough to to go over this for me. [hugs Markus a whole lot] Thank you hun. You saved this thing from being the terror it was in grammar mistakes. I was working on 'White Tigers and Golden Dragons' (which needs to be fixed to fit this now) when I realized I needed a back story to an upcoming scene. This didn't turn out anything like I thought it would... yet once I started writing, it just wrote itself.  
  


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I cannot allow him to see how angry this has made me. Right now, he needs to spend every ounce of energy on healing and he cannot do that if he is worried about what I'm going to do to those muggles.  
  
"Mr Potter, I will have to check the extent of your... injury... and I can not promise that it will be pleasant. However, I can promise you that it will not be as bad as what you experienced."  
  
"Do you have to?"  
  
Is he that dense? "Yes, I have to. If it is still bothering you after all of this time, then there is definitely a problem. I should have realized sooner, however, I assumed your malnutrition was the cause for your lack of bowel movements."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Yes, Potter?"  
  
"How long?"  
  
"How long? Do you mean how long will the examination take, or how long have we been here or how long since your birthday? Or, do you mean something else all together?" He really must lean to finish what he is saying. I cannot continue to interpret for him.  
  
"Well, I guess I mean a bit of all three sir. Just how long have I been here? You said I've been out for several days... and what is the date? After my birthday," a haunted look passed over his face, "every thing just melted together. It can't be more than the sixth or seventh, right?"  
  
There we go, a fully finished, articulate, question. "You Mr Potter, have been here for five days all ready." A look of confusion passed over Harry's face. " I came to your home on the seventh to pick you up, so that would make today's date the twelfth. Though, I will admit, what I found when I went to get you, was unexpected."  
  
"I'm sorry Professor."  
  
"Severus." Where the hell did that come from?  
  
"What?!" Ah, shock, such a lovely reaction.  
  
"Severus," I might as well make the best of it now. "I will not spend the next three weeks being called sir and professor by the only person I have to talk to. Mr Potter, you may find there are things about me that you still do not know."  
  
"Um... OK... Severus... but only if you call me Harry." Oh what a blessed sound my name is from his lips.  
  
"I believe that can be arranged, Harry." I have been waiting to be able to say that for years.  
  
"Si... Severus, how long... will... um... the examination take?"  
  
Taking a good look at him, I sigh inwardly. He should not have that look of fear on his face, he shouldn't know what to be frightened of. "Harry," how can I say this without scaring him? I haven't had to deal with a patient in years, and even then I didn't care for them like I do him. "I am hoping that it will only take a short period of time, however, depending on the extent of the injuries you have received, it may take longer. I will treat what I can while examining you, however, to lessen the trauma."  
  
"When?"  
  
"When, Mr Potter? Please be more specific." I will get him to finish his thoughts.  
  
"It's Harry, Severus." Well, at least he knows how to make a point. "When are you going to do the... exam?"  
  
"As soon as I can, Harry. Yet, before I can, I must brew a few potions, to make things easier."  
  
"What kinds of potions?"  
  
He actually seems interested, "A soothing potion, to keep the exam from becoming too uncomfortable, a healing potion that will react to your specific injuries and a gel to ease what the healing potion can not." I will probably think of other things I will need as I work, but for now, that is all he needs to know.  
  
"May I watch?"  
  
"Excuse me?" Is he asking what I think he's asking?  
  
"May I watch you make everything?" Oh god, he is.  
  
"Perhaps the next time, Harry. What I need for you to do right now is get some more rest until I come back."  
  
"But I'm not tired." He yawns.  
  
"You may think you are not tired, but I assure you, your body feels differently. Drink this," I hand him one of the potions from the table beside his bed.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"A dreamless sleep potion, nothing more."  
  
"You'll... you'll wake me before doing anything, right?" May the old man be forever damned, no one should have that kind of fear in their eyes.  
  
"Mr Potter... Harry... I swear this to you. I will never do anything to cause you physical pain, nor will I do something to you, without you being aware of what is going on around you, while we are within this dungeon." I can hear Dumbledore chuckling now, saying I've grown soft in my old age, if he ever hears of what I've just promised.  
  
"Thank you Severus." The first true smile I've seen in over a year graces those lips. He actually does sound grateful for what I've said.  
  
I wish I knew what was going through his head right now. At least he seems to trust me now, as he drinks the potion without complaint. I'll just get him comfortable, then get to work on those potions.  
  
He still looks like an angel when he sleeps. 


	4. Reflections & Potion Making

**TITLE**: Hate & Love (Chapter 4)  
**CHAPTER**: Reflections & Potion Making  
**AUTHOR**: Teigra  
**E-MAIL**: teigra_kefira@yahoo.com  
**PAIRING**: Harry/Severus  
**SERIES**: Yes (part one of many)  
**ARCHIVE**: My page and any place else; please ask first.  
**CLASSIFICATION**: PG-13  
**SUMMARY**: Severus Snape saves Harry from the Dursleys  
**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own them... She does *points to JKR* and I am making no money from this, I'm just enjoying sharing some of my own crazy ideas.  
** AUTHORS NOTE**: I had thought of titling this the chapter in which Severus Snape would not shut up. I had hoped to have this chapter up much sooner. So this chapter is longer than I had originally intended. Then I broke my glasses, then work got crazy… and a plot bunny to write Ron and Neville bit me. But it's finally finished… and Severus has shut up… for NOW. Of course it took him 14 pages in MS Word at 10 point font to do so. UGH!  
I'm going to be upping the rating from PG-13 to R next chapter, not because of sex (though it is coming at some point) but because I'm going to be dealing in more detail with what happened to Harry at the Dursleys. I wanted to give warning before hand because it may be disturbing to some.  
** THANK YOU**: If it hadn't been for HermioneHeidi, this chapter would have never made it to this point. Thank you so much for listening to me complain… reading this over and over again and helping me where I kept getting stuck. And an even bigger **Thank you** to Markus for fixing my mistakes in this monster of a chapter.  
  
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How the bloody hell am I supposed to do this? The only desire I have at this moment is to go kill that great muggle that dares to call itself my Mate's guardian. I should have never promised I wouldn't hurt him. But I needed him to trust me as quickly as possible.  
  
I can't even concentrate on what I'm making I'm so angry. I've never had anything that has distracted me so completely that I can't work. My potions are what normally calm me down. Yet right now, I am anything but calm.  
  
The first thing I need to do is brew a calming potion, for myself. At least I can do that and once I am calm enough, I can get to work on Harry's potions.  
  
It shouldn't be this difficult to do this. A second year should be able to do this in their sleep. *I* should be able to do this in my sleep! Yet all I can think about is that young many sleeping in the other room. The young man that shouldn't need me to be doing this…who should have been safe… without me.  
  
This is unfair, to both of us. I blame the old man for putting us in such a position to begin with. If the boy was truthful in his letter, and I believe he was, he would have had a safe place to go this summer. Yet he was denied that safety, not once, but twice. And that last time nearly cost him his life. I want to storm up to Albus' office right now and tell him everything he has done wrong when dealing with my Harry. Yet it all comes back to the fact that I gave my word, more than once, that I would not speak of it.  
  
Yes, the last time I gave my word, I did not know why exactly I was giving it, however, it was given. I will not betray my mate by breaking my word. Too many others have done that to him already.  
  
I once swore, on the first day that I saw him, that I would do everything in my power to protect him. I had no idea how soon I would be tested in that manner. Quirrell tried to kill him at the very first Quidditch match, yet I am sure he believes it was I who cast that curse. He really is an amazing flyer, very few would have stayed on their broom while that curse was being directed at them, even with the counter-curse being spelled as well.  
  
I did not dare to think that he would go after Quirrell for the Philosopher's Stone, or I would have followed him that night. Even though I thought the three of them were up to something, I never thought they would be so fool hardy. That is one night I am thankful to the old man for. I almost lost my mate that night.  
  
When word came at the beginning of the second year that he and the Weasley boy were missing, I nearly had a heart attack I was so worried. Oh word of the flying car reached me, yes, but I did not put two and two together, until they showed up at the feast. I was so relieved, yet so angry at the same time. I knew I had to get him away from me right then. He was affecting my judgement, I could not think straight when it comes to him. Perhaps the old man has some idea of what happens because he did not expel him then, for which I am grateful.  
  
Then there was Lockhart and the Bludger. I am certain that the crackpot was behind the mad bludger that knocked Harry off of his broom, yet I haven't, as of yet, been able to prove it.  
  
Then he does several other stupid things that year, which I only find out about afterwards. Just as I vow to keep a closer eye on him, he runs away from home. With Black on the loose and a werewolf in London. Though he probably didn't know this at the time.  
  
There we go, both the calming potion and the soothing potion are finished. Thinking about him may be a distraction, yet it is helping, just this once. Now for that healing potion. I want that to be as well made as possible. I'd rather be able to go get some fresh dragons heart and mint leaves, but I will make do with what I have here. Now, back to Potter.  
  
I never did find out why he ran away from home that summer, but I am sure now, that he was safer after leaving that home. And I was ecstatic to hear he couldn't leave the school grounds to go to Hogsmeade. Not only would he be safe from Black while still on school property, he would also be safe from the Dementors.  
  
Of course I heard about what happened to him on the school train, who didn't? If young Mr Malfoy hadn't made such a spectacle of it, I would have heard of it from Poppy, who came down to my lab simpering on about the poor Potter child and how dreadfully the Dementors affected him.  
  
I am almost glad that I was not at the first Quidditch match of the season (it always seems to be the first Quidditch match) for I would have given myself away. No one has ever seen the form of my Patronus, no one except the Dementor that will never speak of it. It shocked me the first time I saw it, though it cemented in my mind what I all ready knew with my heart. It was Harry, ridding a Gryffindor lion, with snakes curled around each arm. It was an amazing sight to my eyes, but if anyone sees it, I do not think I will live long enough to cast it again, for his godfather would kill me.  
  
I was thrilled he lost his broomstick though. It meant (or so I thought), that I could stop worrying about him up on brooms. At least until he received the Firebolt at Christmas. McGonagall was, for once in her life, showing foresight by taking it away from him and testing it for jinxes. I should have never reminded her that Slytherin was on it's way to winning the Quidditch Cup again, or he would have never gotten it back.  
  
My angel flew like one on that broom.  
  
I almost let myself become complacent where it came to him. There were other things that needed my direct attention. Between Lupin's potion that needed my constant attention and the threat of Black, who kept showing up in the castle, my mind was not constantly on Harry. I should have never let that happen. When the Malfoy child came to me and said that he saw Harry's head (though nothing else), I knew he was sneaking out and that I must stop him. Stop him from risking his life in that manor.  
  
I made some mistakes that day, one involving his father and the other involving Lupin. He succeeded in getting out of trouble because I could not prove he was out of the castle. Yet I am certain that the Malfoy child was not lying.  
  
I almost thought he was safe that night I chased Lupin out to the shack. I may have listened to Black and Lupin talk, may have found out the truth that night, if I had not seen Harry within that room. Yet another proof that I cannot think straight when he is around. All I could think is that he was in a room with a man that killed his parents and defected to the man I ran from and a man soon to become a werewolf.  
  
I should have listened longer at the door, I would have realised that the real killer was within that room. When I barged in and attacked both Lupin and Black, Harry responded admirably. He tried to protect his godfather and the werewolf by imploring me to listen, but I could not. All I could think about was the danger he was in, not knowing how much more trouble my actions may have caused. Oh, I'll admit, I was furious when I finally came to an hour later, my wand missing and hanging in the air. Harry Potter and his friends not only disarmed me, then they knocked me out and gave me a blinding headache.  
  
It is surprising what woke me up. I could feel the Dementors leaving the grounds as their coldness eased away from my body. I should have never woken up after that, yet that night, I woke up. I don't know what actually did it, perhaps it was the fact subconsciously I knew that my mate was in danger. Something chased those Dementors away, but they could always come back.  
  
I thought when I found Black, I was doing the whole Wizarding World a favour, I thought I was protecting my mate and I thought I was bloody well going to finally get the Order of Merlin First Class. Yet when Black escaped, and I am still sure Harry had something to do with that, I saw all three of those things slip through my fingers. Especially the safety of my mate. In my anger I let my students know that Lupin was a werewolf. Something I shall never get forgiveness for, no matter how much I ask.  
  
I started feeling the first twinges of the Dark Mark after that school year and I knew life would never be the same again. Though my life has never been the same since I had a fit of childish anger and joined the Death Eaters. I only hoped that I was wrong in what I thought.  
  
Though Dumbledore insisted that Black was not involved, I blamed myself and my mate for letting the man escape. I had no idea that it was Wormtail that I allowed to escape, not Black.  
  
I caught wind from Dumbledore that Harry was going to be at the Quidditch World Cup, so I went. Not for the game, but to make sure he would be safe. He never saw me while there, however, I had gotten a good look at him. My mate looked ill. It looked like he had lost a considerable amount of weight in a short period of time. At that time I couldn't understand why he looked like he did, and now that I do know why, those muggles will find their lives very unpleasant, if Harry will allow me to extract my revenge.  
  
  
Once the game was over, I thought we would home free. Then Lucius found me and I knew that I must join him in his muggle baiting. Although I find the process simply distasteful, if I wanted my fellow Death Eaters to believe I was still within the fold, I had no choice. I could only hope that no once would get harmed. I could not chance being detected by the Ministry, for even if I was deemed an innocent man, they were still watching me closely, although thirteen years had passed. That was why I ran when I saw the Dark Mark in the sky. I could only hope my mate was safe.  
  
After I returned to Hogwarts and reported to Dumbledore, he let me know that no one, including the muggles, were seriously harmed. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was sure, positive, completely optimistic that there was no way that Harry could get involved with the TriWizard Championship that upcoming year and would be safe for the year. How wrong I was.  
  
By the time school started up again, Harry looked in the peak of health and I wondered if I only imagined seeing him look so ill. It certainly seemed that he had never been in the condition I had seen him. For the first two months of the school year, life seemed to go on at a normal pace. I avoided Moody like the plague and gave Harry detentions every chance I could so I would be able to spend time with him.  
  
It wasn't until his name came out of that Goblet that things turned upside down for yet another year. His face told a story I didn't want to believe when his name was called. He was in shock. He really didn't believe his name had just come out of that Goblet. Yet true to form, I made accusations to the opposite. I wanted him disqualified; I wanted him taken out of the competition, yet because of the binding magical contract, he could not be removed. Much to my dismay. Once again, all I could do was watch and wait.  
  
I should have known it was Moody. Igor was too livid for it to have been him. That and Igor just did not have the magical power to cause Goblet of Fire to become hood-winked. Yet I never suspected the ex-Auror. Who would? He has been changed by the last war and the subsequent year. We were all changed in some way and that man was just batty. I told Dumbledore not to hire the man, that it would cause problems, but he was the only person qualified to protect the children. Or at least he would have been, if it really had been Moody and not Barty Crouch Jr. who should have been dead.  
  
There was not much I could do during the year to help him. Instead I did everything I could do to convince him to quit, not that it worked. Yet, my heart wasn't into my cutting remarks. I watched as the entire school turned against him, including the youngest Weasley boy and I encouraged my Slytherins to continue their long-standing reticule of the boy-who-lived.  
  
Why I attacked Granger when Malfoy hit her with his misfired curse, I'll never really know. Perhaps it was a vain attempt to get Harry and the Weasley boy talking again, perhaps it was to attempt to get her to stop speaking to him as well. Which ever it was, it didn't work. It wasn't until after the First Task that the three were together again.  
  
The First Task, what an abysmal thing to inflict on a person. The only person whom was excited by the fact that there were four fully grown dragons on the school grounds was Hagrid. Personally, I wanted all of them as far away from the school and Harry as possible. It was an argument that I knew I would lose, long before I ever brought it up with Dumbledore, yet I had to try and stop it before someone, no before Harry got hurt. As I suspected, the old man brushed me off. The Ministry had gone through a lot of trouble to bring in the dragons and their handlers; they wouldn't let anything get out of hand. Which to me meant 'Sod off Severus, you can't do anything to change it'.  
  
On the day of the first task, I had never been so grateful to McGonagall in my entire life (even when she gave the Marauders a detention for hexing me back in our school days). That blessed woman gave Harry his broomstick back last year and he used it to get past his dragon. Even the number of times I've seem him fly on the pitch (for I tried to watch as many of his practices as possible), it couldn't compare to the way he flew that day. He teased the dragon, staying just out of her reach. Taunted her until she lifted off her clutch of eggs, allowing him to capture the golden egg, just as he would have a snitch.  
  
It took all of my will power not to show any emotion other than disgust through his trial and I all most lost it when he finished ahead of everyone else. Yet some how I managed not to let anyone know my thoughts.  
  
Except for Dumbledore perhaps. The old fox has a way of knowing what you are thinking, even when you don't know yourself. I had been to see him several times since the beginning of the summer when my mark started to twinge. I had noticed him watching me out of the corner of his eye during meal times, when I was having problems keeping my eyes off of my mate. And once or twice he mentioned to me that I should give Harry an easier time. There was no way that I could do that. I feared that if I eased up, even a little, I would not be able to hide from the world just how much I loved him. Even though I hated myself for having such thoughts and feelings for someone whom wasn't of age, and to make matters worse, my student.  
  
Things seemed to go smoother after that task was done. He was speaking again with the Weasley child and most of the school seemed to accept him again. At least things seemed to be running smoothly until the announcement of the Yule Ball. If he had looked frightened by the dragons, he looked positively petrified by the mere thought of asking someone to go to the Ball with him. I knew he had to ask someone; all the champions needed a partner to open the Ball with.  
  
Secretly, I wished he would ask me, while pushing him away at every turn. I will admit, I was jealous of Mrs Patil for she got to spend time with him. I did not stick around to watch them open the dance, instead I went out to sulk in the gardens.  
  
Igor found me out there and insisted that I talk to him about our master. I could understand why he was frightened, the man openly betrayed many of our circle, including myself, to get out of Azkaban. That was something our master would not look lightly upon. If he was lucky, Voldemort would kill him outright, if not, there were many ways to make a man wish for death without ever allowing it and our hated master knew them all.  
  
Of course I was worried about our master coming back. I had betrayed him, gone over to the side of good, a choice I will never regret. However, I never, not once in the thirteen years he was gone, let my mask waver. If need be, I would go back to Voldemort and once more swear my unyielding desire to serve him, while all the while spying for the old fox.  
  
When Harry and the Weasley boy came into view, I could feel my jealousy welling up again. Even though I knew there was no way my mate could take me, could even know my feelings I was enraged by the fact that he had taken someone else to the Ball. My only solace was the fact that it had been a female that he had taken and not another male. Though I do not believe that he even knew that he would have that option. McGonagall would not have told the boy that he would have had that choice. Yet another thing that I must be grateful to the woman for.  
  
As much as I wanted to, I could not take points away from the boys for being outside. For once they were not causing trouble, nor were they out of bounds. Yet I needed to get Harry as far away from me as possible and as far away from Igor as possible. That man would betray Harry to Voldemort in a heartbeat if that was what was needed to get back into the Dark Lords good graces (if there is such a thing) and I did not want to give him that chance.  
  
By the time I lost those two in the maze of hedges, my temper was at its peak. It was not how I had envisioned spending my Christmas, with a man I despised yet pretended to like and pretending to despise the man I love. I told Igor I was retiring for the night and stormed off to my room. To hell with Dumbledore and his over cheerful Christmas spirit; I could not handle the mask that I was forced to wear any longer.  
  
It made it a point to avoid him as much as possible after the Yule Ball. Harry would not, could not, understand the extent of my anger when dealing with him after wards. The Old Man even made a few comments about the fact that there had been a drop in the number of detentions he had received from me. I could not stand to be around him for long periods of time, hell even the class time that we had together was strained.  
  
I knew what was coming up for the Second Task. He would have to go into the lake and find the one thing he would miss the most. I didn't want to think about that. It was painful knowing that I was the one that he would miss the most, we were bound together in ways that even I couldn't imagine (and I'd been researching Soul Mates ever since I discovered I had one). However, I knew that he did not see this yet, I hadn't allowed him to.  
  
I knew all this directly after the First Task. All the professors did, we had to watch out to make sure none of the four students were harmed while getting ready for the task. However, it wasn't until a month before the task that I started getting edgy. Potter's egg turned up in the corridor near my office; my office that had just been broken into. Of course I was suspicious of him. Filch said it had to have been Peeves, but no ghost could have broken through the wards that I have placed around my rooms, only a wizard could. Yet now that I look back upon it, only a full-grown wizard could have broke through those wards. Harry would not have had enough knowledge to break though them, even though we were connected as we were (which was one of the many reasons I suspected him). I was forced into believing Moody/Crouch that Harry was nowhere near the egg that night. His magical eye could see through invisibility cloaks, as I well knew.  
  
Two days before the task I was waiting, extremely impatiently, for the results of the goblets choosing of our champions most missed companion. I wanted my name to come out of that goblet, I wanted to know that I was the one he would miss the most, yet I knew if it did, I would have more than I cared to explain to that Muggle loving old fool who calls himself Headmaster. And *much* to my disdain, I found I did have to explain myself to the old man. I would consider myself lucky though, when the goblet spit out the names, for when it did, it spit out two, Mr. Weasleys and my own.  
  
It eased the hurt in my heart to know that Harry would miss me if he lost me at this point in his life (not many would miss me at any point) and perhaps I was a bit jealous of the fact that Mr Weasley played such an important part in my Mates life that his name came out of the goblet in conjunction with mine.  
  
To Albus I just said that perhaps it was because I didn't treat him like a celebrity like the rest of them, I treated him just as badly as I would treat any other student in the school. He would miss the grounding that I gave to him, that no one else would (I didn't know about those blasted Muggles at the time). And since two names came out of that bloody goblet that he better choose Mr Weasley for I would have no part in being a part of Mr Potter's foolish risk taking. For some reason, Albus believed me, yet told me (while there was one of his knowing twinkles in his eyes) that I didn't have to participate, that Mr Weasley would be the better choice, for a professor couldn't get involved in any case, but that he just wanted to let me know what could have happened and how Harry felt about me. I STILL think that the man is insane.  
  
All I could do then was wait for the task to begin and hope he had figured out a way to do said task.  
  
I watched him run down from the castle, looking as if he had barely slept, the day of the task. I almost thought (and wished) that he wouldn't show up at all and be disqualified. However, he did show up. I almost stormed up to my office the moment I saw him shove the gillyweed into his mouth. I had hoped he hadn't gotten it from my storeroom, but from another source. I could not allow him to steal from me, even with the feelings I had.  
  
I watched the water for the entire time that he was under. I knew exactly how long he would have under water almost to the second, before the weed would wear off. I didn't want to find out that he had drowned. I started to get frightened when he didn't break the surface when he was supposed to and breathed a sigh of relief when he did finally break the surface, with two of the captives. I didn't care that he was outside the time limit; he had made it back up to me.  
  
I was as excited as the rest of the school, when the old man gave the announcement that Harry would get full marks (from everyone except Igor) for his determination and concern for everyone instead of just himself and his captive. Harry was now tied for first place.  
  
The moment I could escape from under the prying eyes of Albus Dumbledore, I went down to my office and discovered the missing gillyweed. I could not prove that it was he who took it, I would have had to catch him in the act of stealing to even think of bringing it up with Albus. However, I knew I would have to confront him on it. Too much had gone missing from my supplies to let this slip.  
  
My chance came much sooner than expected, in my next potions class with him. Miss Skeeter (whom has the most deplorable writing habits I have ever come across) wrote that lovely letter about my Mates heartbreak. I knew that he and the Granger child were not together, he didn't even like girls. However, it gave me the perfect chance to break up the dream team and confront him about my missing ingredients.  
  
I was so angry with him at the time, that I enjoyed the look of riotous indignation upon his face while I was reading the article aloud to the class. Then took the perverse pleasure in sitting him on his own at the front of the classroom where I could keep an eye upon him. I know I should have not threatened to use Veritaserum on him, yet I wanted him truly frightened to tell me the truth. No matter how I accused him though, he would tell me that he didn't take the materials.  
  
Halfway through the class, Igor barged in and I could only get him to settle down by agreeing to speak with him after class. I knew what the man wanted to talk about. Exactly the reason I had been avoiding talking to him. I, technically, was still in good graces with our master, I could not let it been seen that I was collaborating with one that had betrayed our Dark Lord and the Death Eaters into the hands of the Ministry, just to get out of Azkaban. Even when we had my trial, where I was acquitted of all charges, I did not give up anyone, at least, not publicly. The Ministry of Magic at least realized my good as a spy and kept the information they got from me quiet.  
  
When I dismissed the class, I missed the leaving of Harry, not realizing he was under the desk cleaning up a mess he made. Igor, not thinking to look around just whipped up the sleeve to his robes to show me his ever-darkening Mark. As if I didn't know, I had an identical one, in the same place on my arm. The thing that kept me from becoming intimate with anyone since the moment I got it (none of my fellow Death Eaters ever attracted me in such a fashion, not even Malfoy). Harry must have gasped when Igor started talking, for I saw him almost immediately. I kicked him out of the classroom, yelled at Igor for making a fool of himself, then went directly to Dumbledore. There really wasn't anyone else I could go to, for I had just shoved the one I wanted away from me, again.  
  
It wasn't until a month before the Third Task that I had another run in with Harry. He was trying to get into the Headmasters office as I was coming out of them. I was angry at the man, saying there was nothing to be done about the fact that Voldemort was returning except to be ready to start the fight as soon as we could. That he wanted me to spy again. I knew what he wanted; however, it angered me that I would never be free of the mistakes of my past. So when I saw him, the one that I loved yet I could never touch, I let my anger loose. I refused to let him see Dumbledore, stating that the Headmaster was too busy to see the likes of him and would have given him a detention for his insolence if the old man hadn't come down the stairs at that exact time. When he did, I just glared at the old fool and swept down the hall, not willing to get involved in any more of my Mates problems.  
  
When I heard several hours later (I had made myself unavailable) that Barty Crouch Sr. had been on the school property, then promptly disappeared again, I knew then that that was what Harry was trying to see Dumbledore about. The boy has a knack for finding the most trouble he could get in, then diving in headfirst. One would almost think it was the only thing the boy ever did.  
  
It was all I could do to watch him for the next month. Practicing hexes, charms, spells and anything else that might get him through the Final Task that lay ahead. I almost went to him then, to offer my help, yet as a professor, I was strictly forbidden to give help in any way. I think Dumbledore would have understood, if I had ever told him about the situation between Harry and I. However, I have never spoken to the man about it and wouldn't be able to stand the doddering old fools knowing looks every time I tried to scowl at the boy or every time I gave him a detention for something that was inconsequential.  
  
On the morning of the Third Task, I was glad I was taking my tea in my office, for my copy of the 'Daily Prophet' became covered with aforementioned tea. That hag who dares call herself a reporter, the hag that once pulled my own name though the tabloids (albeit what she said about me was more truthful), had slandered my mates name. I knew for a fact that she was not allowed on the school property (I actually asked Dumbledore to keep her away, stating my own problems with the hag). How could she have gotten any information about Harry? Oh yes, it was common knowledge that Harry had a 'vision' in Trelawney's class. How could we not know? That dreadful woman couldn't help but brag in the staff room about how poor Harry Potter was rolling around on the floor clutching his scar in pain. However, that class is on the top of the North tower (some place I have not frequented since my own school days here) and there is no way she could have gotten there without being seen. I could only hope that this wouldn't turn the school against him today, he would need all the support he could get.  
  
When I saw him at lunch, he looked fine, like nothing could harm in him the world. Student's kept going up to him, wishing him lunch on today's task and Mrs Weasley and Bill Weasley had arrived to cheer him on. I only hoped Bill would stay away from me, it would be hard to explain to an old lover that I wasn't seeing anyone at the moment because my Soul Mate was too young to even think about that me in that manor. Though he hasn't spoken to me since he left for Egypt, so I really didn't have anything to worry about.  
  
By the time it was time for the Third Task, I was ready to jump out of my skin. The Dark Mark was growing more prominent on my arm by the hour, Dumbledore had asked me to make several different kinds of healing potions for Poppy (the woman truly was hopeless at making her own) and the excitement within the school was all most tangible.  
  
I made my way across the field to the Quidditch Pitch and took my place among the teachers. I had chosen to just be a spectator for this final test of courage my mate was about to go through. Like everyone else, I could see where the champions were waiting to enter the maze and was taken aback by the size difference between Harry and the other three. Seeing him in class and the hallways with his peers (who are usually larger in size than him), I had forgotten just how small he seemed against those who were years older than him.  
  
Then the games began.  
  
Those of us outside of the maze could only wait in suspense. We could not see what was going on within the maze (except for a few glimpses of hair here and there and a beam of wand light). So when a high-pitched scream ripped from the maze, the whole crowd gasped in surprise. However, no red sparks went into the air at that time so the game continued. Sometime later (it seemed like hours, but really it was only about twenty or so minutes) another scream pierced the air, this time distinctly male. Within a minute red sparks were flying in the air and the rescue team was on its way. When Krum was carried out on a stretcher, I almost (forgetting where I was and who I was sitting next to) breathed a deep sigh of relief, only catching myself at the last second.  
  
The centre of the maze, where the TriWizard Cup was situated, was illuminated and was magically magnified so that everyone could see who was the first to grasp the Cup. Both Harry and Cedric came into view at the same time, Cedric running for the cup oblivious to what was going on around him and Harry seemingly trying to warn Cedric of the danger following right behind him. The battle that ensued directly afterwards, between the two young men and the spider will forever be engrained in my mind. The spider bit my mate! Then as it was stunned, it drops him on that same leg.  
  
Harry and Cedric seemed to be having an argument (oh how I wished we could hear what they were saying). I could only assume it was over the Cup. Cedric kept moving away from it, where as Harry seemed to be motioning for him to take it. All of a sudden Cedric puts an arm around my mate and then limp towards the Cup together. They reached out as one to grab the handles and were gone.  
  
He was gone.  
  
A few people in the crowd started to panic, asking what just happened, some just thought it was another part of the Task and others, like myself, started making their way to Dumbledore. Before I reached the Judges booth, both the Diggory's and the Weasley's arrived, each asking what happened and where the boys went. I could here Mrs Diggory's shrill voice above everyone else's, screaming about how her baby (the young man was 18 after all, honestly) was gone and how he was never coming back to her (it was not until much later that I remembered the woman was seer, she stopped teaching the year I started taking Divination to have Cedric). By the time I reached the booth, the Weasleys were doing what I desperately wanted to do, demanding to know what happened to Harry. But I all ready knew in my heart what happened, they were taken, by Voldemort. How, I didn't know just yet, but I intended to find out.  
  
I feared that I would be called to Voldemort's side, only to find my Mates dead body on the ground. However, I had spoken to Dumbledore earlier about my prospects of being called during class time or a school function. We agreed that it would look suspicious if I left during those times, so I could not go at this time.  
  
When my mark did burn, I watched Igor run for his life. I knew he wouldn't get far. No one ever ran and got far…  
  
I however, stayed where I was, watching the confusion deepen around me. By this time, it had after all been three-quarters of an hour; everyone knew something had gone wrong, that when the two young men had grasped the Cup that should have been the end of the Tournament.  
  
Perhaps thirty minutes after my mark burned, Harry and Cedric appeared at the entrance of the maze. Harry clutching the cup and wand in one hand and Cedric's body with the other. I knew the boy was dead, I had seen that look too many times not to know. Harry looked like he was in shock, in shock, but alive.  
  
I knew I couldn't go near him, so I watched him from a distance. I watched Albus tell him to stay where he was and then leave to speak to Fudge and the Diggory's. Then I watched Moody start to lead him back up to the school. I knew, knew at that very moment, that that could not be Alistor Moody. Moody would not remove Harry from Dumbledore's protection after an attack from Voldemort.  
  
I ran for Dumbledore.  
  
The trip back up to the school seemed to take forever. What if's, kept playing through my mind. What if I was wrong? What if I was right and Harry was all ready dead? What if the really Mad-Eye was all ready dead? Those were but a few of the thousand of questions that flew though my mind.  
  
When we reached Moody's office, I was once again reminded of why Albus Dumbledore is considered one of the greatest wizards alive and why Voldemort is afraid of him. The man took the door clean off its hinges and knocked Moody out in one spell. To say I was relieved to see that my mate was alive would be an understatement.  
  
McGonagall tried to usher him out of the room, to bring him the hospital wing, yet, for once the old fox and I agreed on something. Harry needed to know what just happened to him and why. When Albus asked me to get the Veritaserum, I did not have a problem leaving my mate in his capable hands.  
  
I returned with the Veritaserum and Winky the House Elf, both of which I turned over to Albus. I could not help but listen in avid fascination as Barty's tale unfolded, while keeping a close eye on Harry. The whole time I wanted to do something to comfort him, yet I knew I could not.  
  
But the time Barty finished his little confession; I was in slight shock myself. I knew what was going to be asked of me at some point that evening. To insert myself back within Voldemort's fold. So when Albus asked me to first contact Poppy and let her know Moody needed her attentions and then to fetch Fudge, I did so gladly, if only to put off the inevitable.  
  
By the time I finished the tasks that were set before me, Harry had all ready been taken to the Hospital Wing and given a Dreamless Sleep potion (one of my own making) and surrounded by the Weasley family, Granger and Black. I knew there was no way that I could enter and stay by the boys side, at least not without an excuse.  
  
And not a few minutes later, that excuse arrived in the form of that bumbling idiot Fudge. He barged into the Wing with Minerva right behind him (telling him off no less, I keep forgetting the language that can come out of that woman's mouth) and I took the chance by following on her heels. I caught enough of what happened from Minerva as she came up the hall to understand what happened. The Dunderhead had actually brought a Dementor into the school and it administered the Kiss on Crouch. The bastard was as good as dead now and I had no one to extract my revenge upon.  
  
It was a good thing I caught what happened because when Albus entered in on our little group in the Hospital Wing, Minerva was almost in no condition to talk.  
  
One quick glance over at my Mate showed me that he was awake, however, I cold not divert my attention from the situation that was at hand. The complete imbecile that dares call himself our Minister of Magic was insisting that Voldemort could not have returned. As if what happened with Diggory and my Mate wasn't enough to prove that he was.  
  
It wasn't until my Mate spoke (and I will admit, shocked me with the venom in his voice when he said Lucius' name) that I realized just how insane Fudge had become. For one, the man was taking the word of that lying bitch Rita Skeeter over Albus Dumbledore (the man he had been asking advice from for years) and second, he was nearly calling Harry insane, though he was probably the most sane of the four of us. I have always questioned Albus' sanity, ever since I was a boy and I caught him teaching the House Elves how to ballroom dance, and my own sanity sits on a razor sharp edge that only my Mate keeps me from falling upon.  
  
Harry tried to convince the addle brained Minister that Voldemort was back and Albus tried to let him know what needed to be done to circumvent the all out war that was destined to come, yet the man would not listen.  
  
I will admit, I did a stupid thing by exposing myself to that moron, however by the time he asked if Voldemort was really back, I was furious. He had belittled my Mate and my mentor once too often in a very short period of time (though, honestly, once was too often in my opinion). I knew the man could recognize the Dark Mark, I knew he know exactly what it meant, however, he was just stupid enough not to believe. I thought (just afterwards) I had jeopardized my job and my chance to be with my Mate.  
  
I knew, just after Fudge stormed out of the Hospital Wing, what Albus was going to ask me to do and I have never been able to say no to the man (look where I am right now). He was going to ask me to leave that room and go re-enter the fold. Though of course, once again (I swear the old fox is trying to kill me some days) he tired to get me to be friends with the mutt. I know at some point I am going to have to come to tolerate the man who tired to take my life, for Harry's sake, but I don't have to like it.  
  
When I left the ward, I went directly to my master and thinking I convinced him, gave myself back into his service. I told him half-truths about what was happening at Hogwarts (for the man can sense out and out lies) and led him to believe I never left his service, for my actions that most saw, said just that. I do not even want to think of the pain that I went through at the Dark Lords hands for not coming when I was called the first time. All I can really remember after giving my reports, was that I was glad Albus knew how to make me presentable again without having to rely on the dubious care of Poppy.  
  
I did not see Harry again until the leaving fest where I had trouble keeping my eyes off of him at first. I could tell from the haunted look on his face that he was troubled by what happened during the last task, that he blamed himself for what happened. I am positive no one else would have seen it though; they wouldn't know what to look for. I did, I had felt the same way for a very long time. Then he looked at me and we locked eyes for just one moment and I knew the boy was gone, replaced forever by that old soul I had seen reflected in his eyes from time to time. He had aged before my eyes. It took all my will power to wrench my gaze from his face and look elsewhere less my carefully schooled mask fall and give my true feelings away. I could feel him watching me throughout the meal, most likely wondering what the evil Potions Master did for Dumbledore. Oh how I wished I could go down and tell him.  
  
By the end of the feast, I was thankful for the fact that he was going somewhere safe for the summer. That I wouldn't have to worry about him being captured and tortured. Little did I know how wrong I was.  
  
NO! I cannot think about that right now. Even with the calming potion I took, I am still livid about what those Muggles did to him. They *will* pay. However, at the moment, I have a sleeping Potter to awaken once more and an examination to conduct (not to mention my own bodies reaction to the thought of seeing his bare arse to control).  
  
I will have to remember that thinking about Harry and working on potions mixes very well together. 


End file.
